


Dean - 22

by phantisma



Series: Ages [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-21
Updated: 2006-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Dean's POV.  When Dean is 22, Christmas brings family, in more ways than Dean may be ready for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean - 22

When he was twenty-two, he married the love of his life. It was in August, a month after graduating from the culinary academy. Sam stood beside him and the church was filled with her family and their friends. He beamed from his place at the altar as Kaitlyn’s father escorted her down the aisle.

For a wedding gift, Kaitlyn’s father gave them a small café to run on their own, a scaled down version of the restaurant he owned, complete with a dedicated and experienced staff to help flesh out the experience level.

Their honeymoon included taking Sam back to Stanford for his junior year, then driving the Pacific Coast before flying home. All in all, life for Dean Winchester was good. They opened the café the week after Thanksgiving, and by Christmas they had a steady flow of regulars, a good review in the local paper, and Dean came home on Christmas Eve to Jenny and Sam putting the finishing touches on the tree, Kaitlyn in the kitchen serving up eggnog and fresh from the oven cookies.

He kissed Kaitlyn and held her close before murmuring in her ear. “I’m gonna go change. Save me some.”

“Hurry back,” she called after him.

It was in the bedroom that he felt the first inklings of a headache…the kind of headache he hadn’t had in a long, long time. He pulled off his tie and shirt and rolled his neck. The skin around his eyes felt tight and the ache registered just behind his eyes before working it’s way slowly down to his neck. He shook his head and pushed it away. “This is not going to happen.” He stared at himself in the mirror.

If Sam wanted to let it happen to him, Dean wouldn’t argue. He’d agreed to let it go, to leave it be…something they didn’t talk about. Sam wanted to go out on crazy hunts with the old man, so be it. Dean wouldn’t stop him. But this… _this_ was not going to happen anymore. Not to him.

He moved to the bathroom and swallowed three ibuprofen, washed his face and hands and glared at himself a moment or two in the mirror, telling himself that he was fine. When he emerged from the bathroom, he painted a smile on his face and took his eggnog from Kaitlyn. One look at Sam said he had something brewing too, his face was pale, and he wouldn’t meet Dean’s gaze. Dean chose to ignore it, at least until Sam excused himself out to the balcony a half hour later.

He kissed Kaitlyn and followed. “Sam?” Dean pulled the sliding glass door shut behind him as Sam looked up from where he was half leaning over the rail.

“Yeah…I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

“You aren’t fine.”

Sam looked at him through squinting eyes. “What?”

Dena shook his head. “I can see it in your eyes, Sam. You’re in pain.”

Sam gritted his teeth. “It’s a headache, Dean.”

“Let me get you—“

“Not that kind of headache, Dean.”

“I know.” Dean rubbed at his own head. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to recognize this as something real…but he could feel it coming. “What is it?”

Sam shook his head. “Not clear yet. I’ve been holding it off, waiting for some quiet time.”

“You can do that?”

Sam shrugged and turned to lean against the railing. “I’ve been practicing. Dad found me a…tutor, for lack of a better word. Someone with similar gifts. I’ve been training.”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t want to hear that Sam.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He grabbed his head and slid down to sit on the concrete of the balcony. “Damn. It’s hard…it’s big.”

Dean felt his own head twinge and stepped back from Sam. “Dean?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want it Sam.” He felt the glass behind him and the pressure in his head intensified.

“I know. Just…it’ll be easier if I stop holding it…can you trust me?”

Dean nodded miserably and Sam reached over to take his hand. “Okay….I’m letting go.”

The pain intensified, and odd flashes of light and dark moved through him without taking any form. He panted through it until Sam’s hand left his and the pain dulled. When he opened his eyes Sam was on his knees, reaching for Dean’s head. Dean pulled away, but Sam made comforting sounds, and then his hands were on Dean’s forehead, smoothing away the furrows and Dean felt the pain wash away.

“I’m sorry. It was bad. I need….damn. I need to go…for a little while. I need to check on Father Andrews.”

“What? Wait…what was that? How did you—“

Sam smiled softly. “I’ll explain everything later, Dean. For now…god…for now, lock the door behind me. I’d ask you to salt it, but you won’t. Keep it locked. Keep Kaitlyn and Jenny inside.”

Dean stood on shaky legs and Sam followed. “Where are you going?”

“To the church. What I saw…involves Father Andrews. I need to get there.”

“Sam, I don’t like this.”

“I know. I’ll explain…I’ll tell you everything. You just gotta trust me.”

Dean didn’t know if he actually did…at least not where this was concerned. “I’ll come with you.”

Sam shook his head. “No. Jenny and Kaitlyn need you here.”

“You said it involved the priest, not them.”

Sam sighed. “I know what I said. Just…damn it Dean, just trust me, okay? I gotta go.”

Sam opened the door and moved through the apartment quickly, snatching his coat and backpack on his way and bursting through the front door. Dean leaned against the door frame for a moment, then shrugged at the question in Kaitlyn’s eyes.

With a sigh, he pulled the door closed and set about finishing up the tree and presents.

“Have I told you lately how happy you make me?” Dean asked softly in Katilyn’s ear as they sat on the couch hours later, alone in their living room. Jenny had gone to bed, Sam wasn’t back yet and Dean held her in his arms, nestled up against him.

“Every morning, when you kiss me,” she said, leaning back to rub her lips over his stubbly cheek.

He smiled and sighed softly. “I mean it Kate. I’ve never felt like this before. You…you’ve stuck with me despite everything. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you.”

She shifted a little in his arms, resting her head on his chest with a contented sigh. “Before I met you, Dean…I was convinced I that I would work for my father and become a brilliant chef…I never though about marriage or a family…I thought I knew what I wanted in life.”

“And somehow I spoiled all that?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“Yes, damn you…you and that smile, that awesome ass…your brilliance with a fillet knife…you won my heart.”

Dean chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “And now?”

“Now…I just want to be your wife…your kitchen partner…the mother of your children.”

Dean’s breath caught as she slid a small box up onto his chest. “What’s this?”

“My Christmas present to you. Go on, open it.”

“Kate…”

“Just do it.” She kissed his nose as he adjusted his position to give him space to unwrap the small box. It was the size of a small jewelry box, but there was no rattle, no indication of what was inside.

He dropped the wrapping and opened the box, pulling out a folded piece of paper. His hands trembled as he unfolded it. “Kaitlyn?”

Her eyes were bright and filled with tears as he looked from the test results to his wife and back again. “Does this say…?”

She nodded. “Yes, Dean. You’re gonna be a daddy.”

His heart stopped. Right in that moment, the world stopped existing and there was only her and him and that piece of paper. “A baby?” He kissed her, then looked at the paper again. “A baby?”

She grinned and held his face in both hands. “A baby…a tiny little Winchester…”

“I don’t even know what to say.” His eyes were filled with tears and his breathing was heavy as he shook his head. “I never dreamed…I…”

“Say you’re happy.”

“You have no idea, Kaitlyn…” He kissed her deeply, dropping the paper to the floor. “I love you so damn much. This is…the best Christmas ever.”

 

“Course, this means we have to think about a bigger place.” Kaitlyn said an hour later as they crawled into bed together. “With Jenny and Sam…and a baby…”

“Jenny will be heading out to college next year, and Sam’s only around during the summer and over Christmas…we could make do.”

She swatted at him playfully as he slid into the sheets, and reached instantly for her belly. It was like he couldn’t keep his hands off of it since she’d told him. “You want your child to start his or her life making do?”

He chuckled and turned out the light. “No, of course not. I’m just thinking it’s going to be hard to move right now. I can call Amber and Sheldon though, see if they can find us something…maybe closer to the café.”

“That would be nice.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “There’s so much to think about…there’s daycare and schools and names…cribs and…”

“Shh…” Dean kissed her, his hand sliding up under her tank top to rub her bare skin. “Quiet, Mrs. Winchester. There will be time enough for all of that. For now…let’s just savor this…”

“What?”

His grin was evil. “The quiet…once this baby comes, there won’t be any of it.”

 

 

“Dean.”

The name was whispered, but it brought Dean up from his sleep. Sam was in the doorway of the bedroom, beckoning him.

Dean cleared the doorway and pulled the door shut. “Sam, what the?” But one look told him why Sam had gotten him up. There was blood pouring down his arm. “Jesus, Sam!”

“Shh…don’t wake everyone. Just…help.”

“Help? You belong in an ER, Sam.”

He shook his head. “Just help me get the bleeding stopped.” He led Dean into the bathroom and peeled off his t-shirt. The gash across the bicep looked deep, but clean.

“What did this?”

Sam shook his head. “You don’t want to know. Just…help me. I’ve got to go back out, find Dad.”

“Dad?”

Sam nodded. “I got there late. Dad beat me. I called him as I was leaving.”

“Dad was in town?”

Sam winced as Dean pressed gauze against the wound. “Yeah. Got here this morning. He wanted…damn, that hurt….”

“Sorry. Hold still.” Dean held the gauze in place, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding. “Is Father Andrews okay?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah…Dad got there in time…he’s fine…Dad though…he took a bad blow…fell down the stairs. His head was bleeding. I…he told me to deal with the thing, and when I came back he was gone.”

“He probably crawled off to lick his wounds Sam.”

“Maybe.” Sam’s face was white, except for the bruise on his left cheek.

“Okay, I think the bleeding’s stopped.” Dean looked over his brother, some of his earlier anger returning. “You need stitches.”

Sam looked at the wound, then shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Let’s just get a bandage on it.

Dean grumbled, but did what Sam wanted. “I don’t like this.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I know I promised…It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t promise that Sam. You don’t control the visions, not really.”

Sam shook his head and captured Dean’s hand with his good one. “Dean, I swear, I won’t bring this into your house again. Okay?” He pulled the hand to his lips and kissed the palm, then froze. “I’m sorry.”

In the close space of the bathroom, Dean suddenly felt hot, claustrophobic. Sam was entirely too close and he could smell him. Sam shifted and his leg brushed Dean’s. “Sam…” It was part warning, part desire…desire he’d put away when Sam left for Stanford. “I—“

“No, Dean. My fault…I…I should go…”

His hand touched Dean’s bare chest and it was like fire. Dean’s eyes rolled closed and he shook his head. “I don’t want you to.” Dean whispered.

“Dean…we…” Sam’s breathing was heavy as he maneuvered around his brother. “You should go back to bed…with Kaitlyn…I’m gonna go…find Dad.” He pulled his hand away and shook his head.

“I’ll go with you.” Dean said, running a hand through his hair. “Just let me get dressed and-“

Sam’s cell phone rang and he fumbled in his pocket to pull it out. “Hello?” Dean thinks his voice is too husky, too deep. “Yeah, okay. Thanks. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Dad?”

Sam shook his head. “No, the hospital. Someone brought Dad in.”

“Is he okay?’

“Didn’t say. Look, can I borrow the car? I need to get over there.”

Dean stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Give me five minutes. I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“He’s still my father too Sam.”

“Yeah, okay. Hurry.”

Dean nodded and went to dress as quietly as he could, but Kaitlyn still rolled over and looked at him. “Dean?”

He went to her and kissed her lightly. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“What’s going on?”

He sighed. “Sam…Sam and I are going out for a little while.”

“Its one in the morning, Dean.”

“Shh. I know. It’s my father, he’s…hurt. I’m taking Sam to the hospital to check on him.”

“Your father?”

“It’s a long story. We’ll be back by breakfast, I promise.”

“You better. It **is** Christmas.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He kissed her lightly, then grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand.

Sam was waiting by the front door and Dean nodded, snatching his keys and leading the way out the door. They were quiet until Dean pulled into the parking lot. “Maybe you should…wait.” Sam said, getting out of the car.

“What?” Dean glared at him for a minute. “What is it you’re hiding from me Sam? It isn’t just the hunting bull shit. It isn’t just the visions and all the shit that comes with them. What is it?”

Sam shook his head. “I can’t tell you…I shouldn’t tell you. It’s complicated and messy and you wouldn’t believe me anyway. Just…things could get ugly if you and Dad are together.”

“What does that mean?” Dean could feel the old familiar anger starting at low burn in his belly. “What does that even mean?” He came around the car and turned Sam to face him.

Sam’s eyes closed and his face flushed. The tension that had erupted in the bathroom returned and Sam took a step back. “You won’t like it.” He shook his head. “Can’t you just trust me…for a minute? Let me tell Dad you’re here. See what he says.”

“If he’s even in any condition to talk.” Dean said. “I’m coming inside. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“Yeah, okay…inside. But let me see Dad first.”

“Fine.” Dean didn’t even try to hide his frustration with the whole thing, just followed Sam into the ER.

At the desk, Sam waited his turn, then smiled at the nurse. Dean was struck with the familiarity…it had been ten years since he’d brought Sammy in to this very ER, stood at this very desk and prayed for help. “Hello, I’m Sam Winchester. I got a phone call that my father is here?”

“Let me check, Mr. Winchester. Yes, he’s in exam 2, with the doctor now.”

“May I?”

She nodded, and pointed down the hall. “Just…wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Dean nodded and paced away. The waiting area was nearly empty, which he figured was in part due to the lack of snow this year. While it was cold, the streets weren’t packed with ice and snow. There was a tired looking woman with a toddler in her arms and a homeless man who seemed to be asleep. Dean settled into a chair and closed his eyes, remembering the first time he’d come here.

_“How long has Sam been sick?”_

_Dean bit his lip. “A couple days. It didn’t get bad until last night.”_

_“Okay. Has he been getting any medicine?”_

_Dean nodded, his gaze flicked up to her face and away. “Yes. Tylenol every four hours. Cough syrup every six. Just like the bottles said.”_

_A hand brushed through his hair and he looked up again. She smiled. “You’re a good big brother Dean. When was his last dose?”_

_Dean chewed on his lip. His head hurt and he wanted to see his brother. “Two hours ago. It was the last…it wasn’t helping.”_

_“Its okay Dean. One last question. Where are your parents?”_

Dean exhaled slowly and put his hands over his face. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Like he was a different person all together than that twelve year old who had carried his baby brother into the ER.

He looked up when he heard his name. Sam was pale, but Dean couldn’t tell if that was due to his own injury or their father’s. “Well?”

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He’s got a concussion. He was unconscious when they brought him in. He’s awake now.”

Dean nodded. “What did the doctor say?”

“He wants to keep him overnight, but Dad wants nothing to do with it. He wants to leave.”

“Stubborn old man.” Dean muttered. “Can I see him?”

Sam looked uncomfortable. “Yeah…but he wanted you to know…first…so you can decide.”

“Decide what, Sam?”

Sam came to sit next to him. “Okay, like I said…you aren’t going to like it.”

“Sam.” Dean practically growled it in his frustration.

“Okay…okay…two years ago, Dean…you saved my life, mine and Jenny’s and probably Dad’s and Janet’s.”

“What?”

“You don’t remember, because that memory was taken from you, just like it was taken from all of us. You made a deal with a demon, you gave up the visions and the nightmares and all the gifts that go along with it in order to…keep us safe.”

Dean sat back in his chair and shook his head. “That’s…insane, Sam. I know I said I’d let you be about it…but you’re beginning to really scare me.”

“I know.” Sam’s hand covered his. “I know how it sounds…but I trust the person who told me. So do you.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed, trying to read Sam’s face. “Who?”

“Father Andrews.”

“The priest? Father Andrews told you this crazy story?”

Sam nodded, then shook his head. “Well…yes and no. It’s complicated.”

“You keep saying that Sam.” Dean stood up and paced away. “You keep telling me things that I’ve worked for seven years to put behind me…keep telling me that you’re okay and not to worry…but I do. I see you spiraling into the same twisted dementia I was in and I’m scared. And now…He’s fucking with your head the same way he’s always fucked with mine.”

Sam stood and cut the distance between them, catching Dean’s hands. “I know, Dean…okay? I wish…I wish I could go back and change everything…I wish I could take back all the times I doubted you, that I lied to you. God!”

His hands moved to either side of Dean’s face, not caring who saw them. “I was so afraid…I was afraid you’d leave me again if you knew…I was afraid…Dean…please, just…”

Dean’s stomach rolled inside him and he wanted to comfort the pain and anguish pouring off of Sam, and he found himself kissing Sam’s cheeks, making soft, comforting noises, even as his back ended up against the wall. “Its okay, Sammy…it’s all going to be okay.” Sam was in his arms, his body hot against Dean’s and he felt himself flush with an old, familiar desire. His lips brushed Sam’s and Sam groaned. “Sammy…”

“Dean.” Sam pushed himself up with effort, dragging his head free of Dean’s hands. “We…shouldn’t…”

“I know…god, Sammy I know…but…when I look at you…”

Sam’s eyes closed as Dean’s hands stroked down his sides. “I know…but…we…I promised myself…it isn’t…right…”

Dean took a deep breath and nodded. “Right. Okay. So…”

Sam stepped backward and took a deep breath. “So…part of the bargain you made was that you would never see Dad again. We don’t know what will happen if you do.”

Dean bowed his head for a minute, his lips pursed as he thought. “Is that all of it? No more?”

Sam shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know.” He crossed his arms and Dean watched him pace away and back again. “We were told…the bargain was your gifts and never seeing Dad, for our lives.”

Dean pushed himself off the wall and past Sam. “Fuck this shit Sam. It’s fucking Christmas and Jenny and Kate are waiting for us. It’s time to end this.”

He pushed the door open and stopped as his father turned to look at him. He was pale, and his head bandaged and his arm in a sling. “Dad.”

He smiled and nodded. “Dean. Its good to see you.”

Dean stepped into the room. “Yeah. Why is it every time I see you you’re in a hospital room?”

“Just lucky I guess.”

Dean shook his head. It was hard to stay angry with him when he looked like that. “You should let them keep you.”

John shook his head. “No. I’m fine. I’m not staying here.”

Dean nodded. “Then come home with us. It’s Christmas. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I don’t want to impose—“

Dean crossed to the bedside. “I’m not taking no for an answer here. You need to come meet my wife. Seeing as you didn’t make the wedding.”

“I—“

“Just listen to him Dad.” Sam said from the doorway.

John looked from Sam to Dean and back again, then sagged a little against the pillows. “Good. I’ll talk to the doctors and get you released.”

 

It was nearly an hour and a half before the paperwork was signed and Dean led them out to the car. It was dawn as he turned into the apartment complex and he could see their living room window lit up already.

“We’re a little tight on space right now, but we’ll figure something out.” Dean unlocked the door and smiled as Kaitlyn came out of the kitchen. “Hey, baby…I brought home a stray.” He held the door and John came in, smiling and lowering his eyes. “This is my father, John Winchester. Dad, this is Kaitlyn, my wife.”

“It is truly a pleasure to meet you.” John said as she came forward to offer a hug in greeting. “Sam’s said some very nice things about you.”

She swatted playfully at Sam. “That’s just because he likes how I feed him. I’m very glad to finally meet you, Mr. Winchester.”

“John…please, call me John.”

She smiled and took Dean’s hand. “Coffee’s ready, and breakfast will be out of the oven in a few minutes.

“Is Jenny up yet?” Dean asked as he took his coffee cup and filled it.

“Nope, little miss Sleeping Beauty.” Kaitlyn smirked. “I swear, she sleeps more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Dean took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup aside. “I’m going to go jump in the shower.” Kaitlyn followed him down the hall and into their room.

“You okay?”

Dean nodded, then shook his head and sank onto the bed. “Everything is so fucked up, Kate. I couldn’t let him go back to some stupid motel room alone though.” He put his head in his hands and she came to sit beside him, her hand gliding over his back.

“Of course not. He’s still your father.”

“He is. He’s insane, and he’s certain there are demons out there possessing people…and he wants to convince me I don’t need my meds…but he’s still my father.”

“So he stays for Christmas.” Kaitlyn said, kissing his cheek.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Dean captured her lips with his own and pressed her slowly down to the bed.

“I thought you wanted to shower?”

“Later.” He kissed her and pushed away the memory of kissing Sam…of wanting Sam’s hands and lips…”I want to kiss my wife.” He didn’t say that he wanted to feel the most normal part of his life, that he needed her, to feel her and smell her and taste her so that he could hold on to normal.


End file.
